


Feast or Famine

by iiMaddHatz



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Angst and Feels, Blood Drinking, F/M, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mostly Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiMaddHatz/pseuds/iiMaddHatz
Summary: Mostly a collection of one shots usually taking place in the Underdark. Probably gonna be smutty with some angst. Maybe gonna have some plot. Not sure yet!!
Relationships: Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Feast or Famine

In all honesty, she had smelled fantastic. And in his defense, he was very, very hungry. It was hardly an uncommon habit at this point. Astarion knew his companions were aware that sipping her blood has become almost a nightly ritual here in the underdark. Still, as Wyll fired a blast of eldritch energy into the bulette, his gaze was firmly locked to the vampire’s teeth affixed to the inside of her wrist. Her wrist! It was hardly the most scandalous place he could have bitten her. Nizana hardly seemed to mind the nip. He had caught her arm on the way to nock an arrow and she didn’t even hesitate to extend it to him. Astarion released her, quickly pecking a quick kiss to her warm skin. She fired her shot without a second thought and the shaft impaled itself into one of the beast’s eyes.  
  
Yet, he could feel the warlock’s eyes glaring cinders into his skull. Astarion swiped his open palm against the hard scales of the bulette, leaving a greenish line of necrosis as he did. Inwardly, Astarion groaned at the thought of having to put up with another one of the lad’s righteous anecdotes which he knew would soon follow.  
  
The thing leapt. This time outwardly, he groaned again. He supposed it could be called graceful. For the large monstrosity that it was. It always seemed to know just where to fling itself and send at least two of them flying. In this case he and Shadowheart. Astarion barely had time to register the pain in the back of his skull when the bulette’s jaws snapped hungrily above him. With little grace, the elf threw himself in a half tumble away, somehow managing to make it to his feet in the process, rapier at the ready. Astarion flashed the bulette a dark smirk before plunging his blade into its thigh. The thing’s cry was piercing and suddenly Asatrion was reminded how unstable this cavern was. The floor swayed and the very air rumbled. From above, the sound of stone crumbling and rocks falling could be heard. Unconsciously, he hunkered a bit lower to the ground.  
  
Then came a crunch and a squelch. Another piercing cry was cut short as Lae’zel’s warhammer burst through it’s skull. With a heave, she brought the weapon down a second time, the beast letting out one last whimper before collapsing to the hollow ground. Lae’zel brought the hammer above her head a third and final time; she took in a deep breath and let out an echoing victory cry.  
  
Astarion sliced his bloodied rapier through the air before him, then delicately swiped the blade between his gloved fingers. “Excellent show, my dear, but do be careful to not bring the ceiling down on us, won’t you?” He gave the sword one last flick befor replacing it at his hip.  
  
The gith hopped from her position on her kill’s head. “Chkt. Would you rather that thing slither off and come after us again? I would not,” she scoffed.  
  
“Yes, but you bashed it’s brains in. I doubt it's slithering anywhere,” he put plainly. She waved him away with another scoff, no longer interested in his opinions.  
  
It wasn’t long before they were back on the path. The bulette held nothing of interest and they had little reason to hang around this territory any longer. And of course Wyll was side eyeing him. Astarion’s lip twitched, threatening to turn into a smug smile. The warlock wasn’t even subtle about the disapproval. Still, Astarion composed himself, keeping his expression blank as possible. “Is something bothering you, Wyll?” he asked, biting back as much malice as he could muster.  
  
“Hm?” Wyll looked him dead in the face, the resentment suddenly hidden, but not gone, “Nothing. Well, I was wondering why you would think draining us in a fight would be a good idea.”  
  
Astarion opened his mouth to respond, venomed words at the ready.  
  
“We already discussed it,” Nizana cut him off. “There’s not much he can hunt down here and I don’t mind.”  
  
“Really.”  
  
A lie. Astarion quirked a brow at her backside, the smirk he’d been trying to hide breaking into full over his features. “Yes, we want me at my best, especially down here,” he quickly agreed.  
  
“Look, we don’t need our archer light headed because you needed a pick me up,” Wyll said. He wasn’t hostile. “Nizana, we need you at your best too.”  
  
She rolled her shoulders and turned back from her position to look them up and down. “It’ll be easier on me if he doesn't drain me dry all in one sitting. I can make my shots.” Wyll gave her a conflicted frown which made Astarion’s eye’s roll. With a sigh, she added, “If it becomes a problem, we,” Nizana gestured between her and Astarion, “will address it. It is my blood, you know.”  
  
Wyll’s frown deepened, but he let out a defeated sigh, “You’re right, it’s none of my business. Just, don’t let it become my business, alright?” He flashed a good hearted smile.  
  
“Believe me, we will not,” Astarion added flatly.  
-  
It wasn’t long before they stopped to rest. Camping in the underdark was different from the surface, that was certain. There was too much light for one thing. Too many of the plants would glow. Even the cavern ceiling and walls were luminescent in places. Disappearing away into the night was much more difficult when all times of the day were equally well lit. Still, slipping away after dinner wasn’t too hard. He found Nizana a few levels down, atop an outcropping of giant mushrooms. The drow greeted him with a half smile.  
  
Astarion took a seat next to her on the orange fungus. “Here I was, impressed that you would lie to a stranger without my ask. But our companions?” he let a hand trail up her back, all the way up her spine to her back of her neck. “And I thought you counted Wyll as a friend."  
  
Nizana shivered at his cool touch, "It's not like he couldn't find out if he wanted to." She taped her ring and middle finger to her temple. The worm in his head shifted in response.  
  
"So lying for me, and taking advantage of our resident monster hunter's good nature," he said with a touch of pride.  
  
"It's like I said; I don't mind," again Nizana brushed her short hair away from her jugular. The puncture wounds at her throat had become an ever present adornment ever since arriving here. Astarions thumb left the nape of her neck, and instead teased gently over the bite. She was bruised, that much was certain. Her dark grey skin was nearly purple around the abrasion. It bloomed rather nicely near her collar bone, Astarion decided. Like lavender, or maybe a lilac. Either way, it suited her.  
  
He let out a hum as he eased her onto her back, "I think you might enjoy this as much as I do."

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written much since 2018 so here goes nothing! I love that vampy elf and im excited that hes gotten me doing creative shit again! any feed back, positive or negative is appricated :) There will be smut next chapter, i promise!


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